One-on-One with Mary Mitchell

She is a crusader, a noted newspaper
columnist and an authority on race relations in Chicago. She is the outspoken
journalist, Mary Mitchell, whose column runs three times weekly in the Chicago
Sun-Times.

Chicago Stories traces her rise from the public housing projects
to the top ranks of Chicago journalism. Mitchell remembers, "A lot of the
kids [there] had issues with me. I was a light-skinned, green-eyed skinny
girl living in this environment. And I was a twin. That made me different." Mitchell's
sister Marie Crossley adds, "[The kids] picked on us a lot. And my sister
didn't fight. . .her weapon was words." Mitchell and her sister felt unsafe
playing outside in the neighborhood and learned to entertain themselves
inside, chiefly by reading, which they learned together. When Mitchell
was twelve, a growing family forced her parents to move to a bigger apartment
in the rougher Clarence Darrow Homes high rise. There, books from the "library
bus" proved to be her "great escape," recalls Mitchell. She graduated from
Dunbar Vocational High School in 1967 with the skills to become a secretary,
but found that, despite her abilities, the only work she could find was
in the mailroom. "The bottom line was that no company had hired a black
secretary," she tells Callaway, "It just wasn't happening in 1967."

After being rejected (unfairly, she believed) for a high-level secretarial
job at the law firm where she worked, Mary reassessed her situation and
decided her prospects would improve greatly with a college degree. She
had been taking occasional classes, but in 1989, stepped up her course
load to earn her degree from Columbia College.

Mitchell switched her major from creative writing to journalism, taking
a class with instructor and Chicago Sun-Times reporter Don Hayner,
who was immediately impressed. "Mary was in the front row," he remembers, "and
asking plenty of questions." Another of Mitchell's professors, Sun-Times columnist
P.J. Bednarski, encouraged her to apply to the newspaper, which was offering
its first internship for minorities. "He told me that he thought that I
had what it took to be a journalist and that I could be a writer," says
Mitchell. "He believed in me." She had never worked for a newspaper, and
didn't even know what a deadline was. Nevertheless, she worked tirelessly
hard, and in 1991 after earning her degree, the Sun-Times hired
her as its education reporter. Two years later, her editors paired her
with Hayner to write a successful series on race, called "The Great Divide." Mitchell's
contribution to the series showed her editors that she had a unique voice
in Chicago journalism. Less than a year later, the paper's editor-in-chief
offered her a column of her own, which quickly became her voice to spotlight
racial issues and fight discrimination.

On the program, Mitchell discusses some of her most memorable subjects
including the Reverend Jesse Jackson, Minister Louis Farrakhan, "man-sharing" among
African American women and a racial incident at Wrigley Field where drunken
white fans taunted her as "Aunt Jemima." She also expresses her views on
the state of race relations in Chicago and looks into some of her plans
for the future.

In-Studio Discussion about the "Too Black" ColumnJohn Callaway: Years ago, there was a piece that had a
headline on it, reading "My Son, 23, Thinks I am Too Black." What was that
about?

Mary Mitchell: My son grew up in a more diverse neighborhood
than I did. I grew up in an all-black neighborhood, went to all black schools.
The first real business relationships that I had was after I graduated
from high school and moved into the work force. Well, he didn't. So, for
him, my Afro, my wanting to make sure that we shop black and buy black,
our observance of Kwanza &#8211; those things, for a young man at his age, he
thought, "My goodness, you are too black. You are too into Afro-centrism.
The world is not all black." That's how he saw it. That was one of the
first columns I wrote for the Sun-Times.

Callaway: Do I presume that's a conversation that has
evolved over the years?

Mitchell: Yes it has.

Callaway: I presume that you keep coming back to those
issues.

Mitchell: Yes, we do. As a family, we talk about them,
and I talk about them as a columnist. Plus, you grow. As a columnist, I
have grown. Some things I started off thinking, when I started writing
columns six years ago, I don't believe in anymore.

Callaway: Such as?

Mitchell: Let's go back to the Afro-centrism issue. There
was a time I was really into buying Black. I thought "You gotta buy Black." But
then I found out, over time, when you really look at it, that there is
a responsibility for black business owners to provide good service. There
are two sides to that story. I feel now that to do business with those
who want to do business with you and give you good service is just as important
as buying black. And I have evolved to that point.

On Writing About Her FamilyCallaway: You have written several columns about your
son who is involved, to your great regret, in gang activities; about your
son, who is unemployed. There is nothing off limits to you as a writer.
How does that work within the family dynamics? What does your son say to
you when he wakes up and reads about himself in the paper?

Mitchell: Well, this is very interesting. One of the things
I have always done, is that I have never used my kids' names. I always
call them "my 19-year-old," "my 20-year-old." That's a little privacy I
give them. But the other thing is that my children understand what I do.
They understand that I am a storyteller. And so they know that when things
go on, I'll tell my own stories. I'll tell about my own failures, I'll
tell about my own successes. They understand that I'm doing it because
I see a bigger message. And if someone can read that story &#8211; if some mother
was struggling with her son who was somehow moving towards a gang &#8211; if
they read that story, maybe they will then try to get help. Maybe they
will see a little bit of themselves in our little family life, and know
that they are not so horrible, that this is life, that this is the way
some families operate.

Callaway: Because again, in those columns, you take yourself
to account.

Mitchell: Yes, I do.

Callaway: You say: "Oh, Mary, what is your story all along
his road to having been involved in a gang?"

Mitchell: Exactly.

Callaway: You always ask yourself the most uncomfortable
questions.

Mitchell: And we have to. I think the problem sometimes
with writers is that we think we are "way up here," that we are perfect
and we can look at the world through this perfect lens. We are not perfect,
we are human beings, and our humanity has to show. For people to really
get the message and approve the quality of their own life, our humanity
has to show.

On Her Own RacismCallaway: It seems to me one of the most appealing things
about your writing is that you take us all on, for our racism, our fears,
our biases, etc. Over the years, you pound us, and pound us and pound us.
And then you turn around and you pound yourself. I will never forget the
column that you wrote about moving in to Maywood and you wanted to live
in a majority African-American community. That was your assumption. And
then one day you wake up after you have bought this place and you found
that you are surrounded by a great many Hispanics. And you are not "Miss
Open Heart" that particular day. Right?

Mitchell: Right.

Callaway: What were you feeling? What did you expect?

Mitchell: Well, you have to know yourself. I have expressed
that in a column because what I was trying to say and what I was trying
to get people to see is that we all have our biases. You have to recognize
what they are. I moved to Maywood twelve years ago, and I am still there.
Even though I woke up that day and realized I did not move in the predominantly
African American community that I thought I was moving into, I stayed.
I don't want to be one of these people who turn and run because people
are different.

Callaway: But you admitted that you thought: "Well, what
are the schools going to be like?"

Mitchell: Exactly, but my kids went to that school.

Callaway: "I have not lived with Hispanics," you said.

Mitchell: And I have learned how to live with Hispanics.
And hopefully, Hispanics have learned how to live with African-Americans.
I think that if you recognize what your own biases and fears are, then
you are able to have better relationships with people who are not like
you.

I think [my sister's story] is about overcoming obstacles, to rise above
whatever circumstances you might find yourself going up in. And I think
her story is about hope. Her story is about a lot of hard work. And her
story is about doing the right thing for herself, for her family, for her
community.

Growing up in the Chicago Housing projects was definitely tough. You had
to learn how to fight. It was difficult for us because the one thing you
don't want to do in the projects is stand out. And we stood out from the
very beginning because we were twins, and so that brought a lot of attention
to us. Also we had a different eye color than most of the kids in the neighborhood.
And so they, they picked on us a lot. And my sister, she didn't fight.
She had a way with words. And her weapon was words. Me, I didn't have that
same way with words. I would have just as soon finish the whole thing and
get it over with. So I did a lot of taking care of her. I became her protector.

I think it caused us to strive a little bit harder to know that we were
not going to live in the projects for the rest of our lives. My dad always
taught us that no matter what your circumstances are &#8211; remember this is
a man that was taking care in the 1960's of ten children, a family of ten,
and in that day, being an African American man, you know, he wasn't making
a whole bunch of money, but he fed us, and although we didn't have a lot
of clothes, we were clean, we were neat &#8211; he taught us that with hard work(and
we watched him go to work every day), it doesn't really matter what your
surroundings were. You could be whatever you wanted to be. And I think
the projects sort of made us realize that there was something better and
we could have that. We just had to get through this very rough time, which
was the projects. Now today, I can't imagine living in the projects.

I'm proud of my sister, definitely. for what she is, for the work that
she does. That's what I'm proud of mostly. The stories, they're great.
I love her columns. I love her columns because I know how much work she
puts into 'em. I know how much integrity she has. For what most people
don't understand about my sister is that she doesn't just arbitrarily write
stories that she doesn't believe in, and she's willing to go that extra
mile. She's willing to take the chance that someone isn't gonna like it.
Someone who's in power isn't gonna like what she has to say if it means
telling the truth. And what truth is that? That's the truth that she sees
that she thinks that we should be thinking about. And sometimes in our
community and especially in the African American community she steps on
a lot of toes because we have a tendency to think that some things need
not be spoken about simply because she's an African American woman. And
so I'm proud that she has such integrity, that she doesn't allow peoples' opinions,
she doesn't allow politicians, she doesn't allow family, anyone, to dictate
to her what the truth is. And that's probably what makes me most proud.

I define Mary Mitchell as that hard-hitting, in-your-face columnist that
basically is just not afraid to stand up to anybody. I don't think people
think that she has feelings because sometimes when she writes about an
issue that is not popular, she gets such incredible, hateful e-mails. She'll
call me up demoralized because someone has written her some very hateful
mail simply because they did not agree with her opinion. And her rights
to even have an opinion. And what I guess most people don't see is that
there's such a soft side to her. There's a side that cares enough to go
down to Child Protective Services and claim two more children to raise.
There's a side that wants to make sure that my mom is always provided for
and always taken care of. And she's the one, when I was in California,
that held the family together. When her oldest niece was dying of breast
cancer, she was still doing a story about the little girl who had no flowers
for her funeral. They were at the same funeral home. That's the side that
people don't see.

I think she's beautiful. Strong. Phenomenal. My sister is just very, very
special. And she's paid tremendous dues to be where she is.

I have a story that I wanted to tell, but I've been working my way up to
it. As little girls, we liked to dance and sing. And so we were going to
be the Doublemint girls. We were going to be the Doublemint Twins. And
we had worked out the song and everything. And we would do it for my dad,
and say, "Okay, Dad, we're gonna be on television." And we were black.
And so my Dad says to us one day, "You're not gonna be the Doublemint Twins.
They don't have any black Doublemint Twins." And we were like, so crushed.
Because we thought the only requirement was to be identical. And so I want
to share that story, because that occurred over 40 years ago, 45, almost
50 years ago, and look, now we have two black women representing Doublemint.
They're not twins, but they're pretty darn close.

I remember when I realized that there was a difference in color. We grew
up in the projects. Everybody was black. But one day, I think we were going
to go to the Moody Bible Institute. My momma said that we could go downtown
by ourselves, get on the bus, ride up north, go to the Moody Bible Institute
and I think we were gonna see a play or something else was going on. And
we always had this idea that we wanted to go to have a milkshake, a malted
milk. 'Cause my mom used to, whenever she took us downtown, she would stop
off at the local drug store and we would always get to the counter, we
would always have a malted milk. And so me and Mary was gonna do that by
ourselves. I think we were about 12. And we took a wrong turn and we ended
somewhere unknown, near north side, in a restaurant. And we walked in the
door and we're just so happy 'cause we're going through this town and we're
gonna get this malted milk. And all of a sudden I realized that there was
no one else like us, that looked like us. And the people in there just
all turned around, and they stared at us until we just backed out the door.
And that's when I realized that there was discrimination.

Telling the Story
By program producer Alexandra Silets

Hearing Mary Mitchell talk about spending her childhood navigating the
perils of public housing was both gut-wrenching and awe-inspiring. This
is one tough lady. And a great storyteller.

Mary and her family allowed us into their lives for a week. No matter where
we were in the city--on the South Side, on the West Side, in the loop,
people always approached Mary with respect and a bit of awe.

I asked her about being a celebrity.

"I think that's probably the biggest surprise. I thought that I'd be recognized
for and honored for the work that I do. And that's terms of a journalist, that
people would be appreciative of the fact that I'm a journalist. I didn't expect
to be recognized as, 'that's Mary Mitchell.' Or stopped on the street, or stopped
in restaurants. Or people coming up to me saying, 'oh you're Mary Mitchell, oh
my goodness, can I have your autograph?' That's been weird. But I think that's
a reflection of Chicago. Chicago loves its journalists. Either they have to love 'em
or hate 'em. And again the people who love me really love me. The people who
hate me really hate me."

Her twin, Marie, has often been mistaken for her more famous sister. Even
Mayor Daley was confused when he saw Marie at the ceremony re-opening the
Sears Tower Sky Deck weeks after the September 11 terrorist attacks.

"There was a woman coming toward me and she said, 'Oh, Mary!' and I'm thinking 'uh-oh,' but
before I could say, 'I'm not Mary,' because that's my standard line, the Mayor
reaches around her and grabs my hand, and he's shaking my hand, and I'm flabbergasted.
I'm thinking, how do I tell him in a nice way, that I'm not Mary? So I'm saying
very quietly, 'I'm not Mary, but it's okay,'and he says loudly, 'What? You're
not Mary?' And I say 'But it's okay; I'm her sister. It's okay. You know, don't
panic.' So it was funny. And I immediately came upstairs and I called my sister,
and I said, 'Well, this is itÑI've finally had it.' And she thought it was so
funny."

Mary wrote about that incident in a column a few days later. But even that
didn't seem to help Marie.

"I think that the column sort of backfired on me because now they don't think
I'm Mary Mitchell, now they call me her sister. So I lost my name in the process.
But it's funny. It's just something that I have to get used to."

The hardest part about producing this show was having to edit all Mary's
fascinating stories. I hope you enjoy watching the program and much as
I enjoyed putting it together.

Alexandra Silets has been at WTTW for five years and has worked on
almost that many different series here. She started working with John Callaway
while he hosted "Chicago Tonight" and is back working with him again on "Chicago
Stories." She also produced "Chicago Week In Review" with Joel Weisman
for three years and won an Emmy Award for her work on "The Cheap Show." Silets
has also been a news writer and field producer for other television stations.
She earned a Masters degree in journalism from Northwestern University's
Medill School of Journalism. She is happily married and the mother of one
son.